I almost tripped over one of the multiple coffee tables on the way to the bedroom. She grins at my misfortune.

"Well Commander, now that you have me here, what do you intend to do?"

I pull away from her. "Talk about tactical supplies, of course."

"Well, that's you. Always business," she said, wickedly.

"Not always." I grin.

Running On Fumes
by Ghostwriter
** Song lyrics are from "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred. ***

"Hail them."

"Yes, First Minister," the young Daelanian acknowledged, long
fingers dancing across the control panel in front of him. "They're
responding."

"I assume they have visual capabilities?" the older being asked, his
voice tight with apprehension. They had heard many strange and
terrifying things about the ship that now approached their coordinates.
It was said this vessel had firepower unequaled by anyone in the sector,
and that their leader was a fierce and unforgiving woman whose gaze
could reduce someone to ashes in a nanosecond.

"The signal is coming through now, my Liege." First Minister Bralin
steeled himself for the confrontation that was to come. The travelers
were obviously going to demand the right to pass through Daelanian
space, and, by all accounts, he was in no position to deny them what
they wanted. Bralin waited for the picture to appear and clarify itself,
and when it did, he came face to face with this woman leader and her
race for the very first time....

What he saw was stunning, to say the least. Bralin exchanged a slow
and dumbfounded look with the younger Daelanian as a chorus of laughter
filtered through the link. There appeared to be only one female present
in the ship's command center, and she was bent over a console toward the
front of the screen wiping tears from her eyes. The rest of the crew
were caught in various stages of hysterical laughter and amusement. This
wasn't exactly the picture Bralin had been expecting. If these people
were as fierce as their reputation promised, they had a very strange way
of catching their potential adversaries off guard.

Cautiously, Bralin cleared his throat. The woman looked up at his
image and smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling. "Well, hello!" she called
enthusiastically.

"I am First Minister Bralin of the Royal Daelanian Council for
Primary Territorial Affairs," he announced diplomatically, his voice
betraying none of the surprise he felt.

"My goodness," the woman replied, looking perplexed. "Do you have to
say all that every time you hail someone?" The young, fair-haired crew
member sitting beside her gasped for breath as he recovered from his fit
of laughter. Spinning around in his chair, he mumbled something to the
rest of his crew mates, instantly setting off a new wave of laughter
around the room. The woman doubled over the console again, desperately
trying to contain her own reaction, but to no avail. Bralin's pale
eyebrows raised as he watched their merriment. This was *definitely* not
what he'd been expecting.

"Shall I alert the border patrol, First Minister?" the young
Daelanian asked softly.

Bralin shook his head slightly, "Not yet." He then cleared his
throat again, louder this time, in an effort to regain the woman's
attention. "May I inquire as to the nature of your business in Daelanian
territory......?"

Their leader looked back up to him, still giggling and wiping her
eyes. "I'm terribly sorry," she said. "Captain Janeway at your service,
First Minister. Our voyage back to our home seems to be taking us across
your region of space," she continued with surprising clarity and a flair
of unexpected diplomacy. "May we be permitted to continue?"

The entire command center on the screen became quiet while this
Captain Janeway spoke, all bemused eyes resting uncomfortably on the
First Minister. Bralin thought quickly, weighing the situation at hand
against official protocol and all the available data they had
surrounding this ship and its crew. They seemed sincere enough, and they
certainly didn't appear to be the battle-hungry people that rumors
suggested they were. Still, the Daelanians were a relatively peaceful
race. Their own firepower would be no match for the weapons complement
their sensors informed them this ship had. Bralin took a deep breath and
swallowed hard, knowing his next actions were of vital importance. "You
may proceed on course, Voyager," he stated, purposely identifying the
name of their ship, even though their leader hadn't divulged that
information. "Our border patrol will escort you to the outer perimeter
of our territory to insure your.....safe journey."

A loud cheer rang out through Voyager's ranks, momentarily startling
both Daelanians. Captain Janeway stared at the First Minister as the
background noise continued, another smile crossing her face. "You are so
sweet, and you offer us such hospitality..." she trailed off, turning
back to face the rest of the crew. "Aren't they wonderful?" Another
cheer flooded their command center, even more deafening than before,
forcing the young Daelanian to yank out the communications device he had
embedded in his ear.

The woman then faced the screen again and lifted one of her hands to
her lips, kissing her fingers and then extending them in Bralin's
direction. "Peace and long life, Bralin, First Primary Daelanian
Territorial Council Minister for Royal Affairs. The crew of Voyager
salutes you!" With that, the woman bowed deeply in front of the screen
while the rest of her officers waved emphatically at their images. A
very loud and obnoxious sound echoed through the link right before the
screen went blank, leaving two entirely confused Daelanians staring at
one another.

* * *

Kathryn Janeway continued to stare at the view screen, now filled
with stars. "Weren't they sweet?" she asked softly to no one in
particular. The rest of the bridge was once again engulfed in hysterical
laughter. Tom Paris swung around in his chair to face the Tactical
station.

"Hey Tuvok! That was a real barn burner!!" he laughed loudly.

"I seem to have developed gastrointestinal problems," the Vulcan
replied, looking surprisingly embarrassed.

"Awesome! I'd give it a ten!" volunteered Harry Kim as another fit
of laughter gripped him.

"Have I been successful in initiating the human ritual of ‘male
bonding'?"

"Damn straight, Tuv-man," Paris called as he spun his chair around
in circles, "Now all we have to do is get you to down a few beers and
belch the entire alphabet."

"No way!," called Kim. "You've never done that, Tom!"

"Yes, way!"

"No WAY!"

"Must be an acquired talent," laughed Chakotay as he got up from his
chair and walked up behind Janeway.

"Don't you think they were very sweet, Chakotay?" she asked, turning
to look at her first officer.

"Maybe we should name a Jeffries Tube after them," he offered.

A wicked smile quickly formed on her face. "What is this recent
obsession with Jeffries Tubes, Commander?"

"Back still hurt?" Chakotay smiled, wiggling his eyebrows. Upon
hearing that, Paris stopped his spinning and began whistling loudly. Kim
joined him while Tuvok just smirked....yes, smirked.

"Do you know what I really need right now?" she purred softly,
ignoring the cat calls echoing around her.

Chakotay's eyes burned with desire as he spoke. "Your wish is my
command." Janeway chuckled seductively as she brushed past him. By the
time she reached her command chair, her uniform jacket had been removed
and tossed dramatically off to the side. Then, as all eyes remained
transfixed on her, she sat down and slowly removed each of her boots,
flinging them across the bridge. Only then did her eyes meet Chakotay's
again.

"I need a foot massage...now, Mister." Her order was crisp and
clear; full of unspoken meaning. Chakotay rushed to obey, dropping to
his knees before her and taking one of her small, delicate feet in his
large hands. He lifted it to his face, loudly sniffing the intoxicating
odor of her as he growled in anticipation. She smiled, a shimmer of
electricity running up her spine. The rest of the bridge crew was
clapping and continuing with their raucous behavior.

"You know what?" Paris asked through the din, spinning his chair
around again.

"What's that, Mr. Paris?" the Captain replied.

"I just don't feel like working today."

Janeway broke eye contact with her first officer long enough to
scrutinize the blond pilot in front of her. "Well, then by all means,
bring us some champagne," she suggested with a smile, groaning as
Chakotay began his ministrations on her foot.

"Oh, and make sure it's sufficiently chilled," she finished with a
wink.

"Aye, aye, Skipper!" Paris stood and saluted crisply before bouncing
up the steps and into the turbolift.

"I like that boy..." Janeway pondered, her eyes taking on a faraway
look as she once again stared at the view screen. Without looking down,
her fingers found and engaged the ship-wide comm system. "Attention all
crew members...Talaxians...Borg...and assorted holographic projections
which provide a constant source of comic relief for Voyager's day to day
trials and tribulations," she began. "This is your...incredibly
intelligent and beautiful Captain speaking."

More whistles and clapping sounded from behind her as she continued,
leaning her head back and closing her eyes to the exquisite feel of her
first officer's hands working their magic. "It has come to my
attention..." she paused for effect, "...that morale has been slowly
deteriorating over the past few months. To coin a Borg phrase, ‘This is
unacceptable.' Therefore, I am ordering the entire crew on four weeks of
shore leave..."

"Six," Chakotay whispered.

"...six weeks of shore leave," Janeway corrected, "at the next
available opportunity." She groaned loudly again as his touch sent a
delicious shudder through her body. "Oh, God that feels good." Her
whisper carried through the entire ship, echoing off all the bulkheads
like a caress. "Please don't stop..."

The turbolift doors slid open behind her, admitting a very frazzled
holographic doctor. He moved down to the command level with
determination, punctuating his arrival with the sharp stab of his finger
on the commlink control button, effectively shutting it off. "Captain
Janeway, your chief medical comedian would like to have a word with
you."

Janeway slowly opened her eyes, a huge smile forming as she took in
the grim expression of his face. "Doctor, we really need to redo some of
your programming; you've become a total sourpuss."

"We have far more to worry about than my lack of appropriate
enthusiasm, Captain," he began. "I've analyzed the contents of the air
circulating through the ventilation system. Somehow, some way, this
entire ship has been filled with nitrous oxide!!"

"And this is a bad thing?" Janeway asked, the silly smile still
firmly in place.

"Laughing gas, Captain! The ship is filled with laughing gas, and I
can't even begin to tell you where it's coming from! I've tried
initiating a level one quarantine alert, which would allow the current
air to be vented in favor of a fresh oxygen mixture, but the computer is
refusing my commands! I have an antidote I could give the crew, but it
won't be effective with the nitrous oxide still present!"

"I'm sure Engineering will clear up the problem in no time," she
replied contentedly, looking back down at her handsome masseur. He was
working obediently on her foot, kneading and stretching, coaxing aching
muscles to relax while he undressed her with his eyes.

"Your Engineering staff is heading up the Conga line on deck six,"
the Doctor pointed out acerbically.

"Conga line?" Kim asked excitedly.

"Oh, I do hope they come this way," Janeway murmured thoughtfully.
"I haven't done that in years." Playfully, she raised her free foot to
Chakotay's face, nudging his lips with nimble toes. He took her big toe
into his mouth, sock and all, and sucked greedily. She responded with a
seductive purr.

Paris bounded back through the turbolift doors just as she finished
speaking, holding a tray filled with chilled champagne, glasses and a
dish of delicious looking strawberries. "What haven't you done in a long
time?" he inquired loudly as he stepped down.

"What took you so long? You were gone for hours!" Janeway
exaggerated.

"The Conga!" Kim laughed.

"Well, you're in luck, Skipper," Paris continued, setting the tray
down on Chakotay's empty chair. "There's a line heading this way! They
snagged me on deck five, but I managed to get loose a few corridors
later."

"Captain!!"

"Oh, Doctor, please have a glass of champagne and calm yourself,"
Janeway replied languidly. "Stress is bad for your holo-emitters."

"This is a three-ring circus!" the hologram murmured incredulously
to himself as he watched the champagne and strawberries being
distributed. Everyone on the bridge stopped what they were doing and
looked up to the ceiling as music flooded through the comm system. It
started as a low, driving beat, the rhythm steady and hypnotizing.
Several people were already tapping their feet as the turbolift doors
opened once more, revealing a very confident and garishly dressed
Talaxian. Neelix stepped forward, walking with the beat of the music,
until he was down on the Conn level, the lime green of his pants suit
clashing brightly with his ruddy features.

"Is that real polyester?" Paris asked as he watched the Talaxian
start to move seductively to the music. There were excited smiles all
around the bridge as Voyager's cook started his provocative show.
Everywhere, that is, except on the Doctor, who stared in disbelief as
the husky voice of the singer finally joined the music...

The bridge once more erupted into rowdy cheers, everyone getting to
their feet to urge the Talaxian on. Janeway stepped up onto her chair
for a better view, slipping two fingers into her mouth to whistle
loudly.

"Go baby!! Woooohooo!!!" Paris shouted over the noise. Neelix had
already removed his coat and was in the process of unbuttoning his shirt
when the Doctor finally turned and headed for the turbolift, shaking his
head in disgust.

"There are limits to what even my program can handle," he murmured
to himself as the doors closed behind him.

"I think we should make this a regular form of entertainment on
board!" Janeway shouted down to Chakotay. He smiled back up to her.

"Only if you head up the list of participants!" he yelled back,
clapping his hands to the rhythm.

"That could be arranged!" she winked, turning back to the show at
hand.

With a bright flash of light, Neelix's gyrating form disappeared and
was replaced with that of Q, the tall omnipotent being sporting a
lascivious smile as he continued the dance. The bridge lights dimmed
suddenly and a spotlight appeared on the main attraction. More raucous
cheering and cat calls reverberated loudly off the walls. Janeway's eyes
nearly popped out of her head as Q ripped his shirt and pants away
effortlessly, leaving him dressed only in a silky black G-string. The
immortal folded his hands behind his head as he began a series of pelvic
thrusts that left very little to the imagination.

Janeway cupped her hands around her mouth, "Nice package!!!!" she
yelled enthusiastically, following it with a high pitched whistle.

The music stopped suddenly with a horrible scratching noise
reminiscent of yanking the needle across an antique vinyl record.
"Hey!!" yelled Q, as the rest of the bridge occupants looked around in
confusion. A split second later the lights came back on, showing Q's
tall and beautiful mate standing beside him, arms crossed in front of
her and a look of pure rage in her eyes.

"Q!!!!!" she bellowed.

"Q!!!" he retorted, his eyes widening in fear. "You weren't supposed
to be back from letting Junior slide through the black holes of
Andromeda for at *least* another hundred years!!"

"And *this* is how you entertain yourself while I'm away?" she
accused, indicating Voyager's extremely relaxed crew. A new round of
laughter began throughout the bridge, prompting a harsh glare from the
female Q.

"I'm just playing, Q!" Q pleaded, trying to laugh his way through
the excuse. "They're being incredibly receptive to my sense of humor.."

"They're chemically happy, Q; they would be receptive to a Denebian
Slime Devil doing the same thing!"

"Well, how else do you expect me to have any fun with them?"

"You're a pathetic excuse for a Q," she spat, finally turning back
to look at her mate.

"Your arrogance is most unbecoming, my dear," Q smiled hopefully at
the woman. "Why don't we go home and discuss this like two civilized Q?"

"Don't you just love a good spat between lovers?" Chakotay asked
Janeway as they watched the omnipotent pair continue to bark at one
another, providing additional entertainment.

"They do sound like an old married couple," the Captain giggled,
stepping down from her chair into Chakotay's arms.

"I hope we do, too, someday," he whispered seductively into her ear.
Their lips melded together so quickly there was no time to breathe,
causing yet another round of whistles and applause from the junior
officers. They made a dramatic show of it, groping each other
shamelessly as they slid to the ground, still in each other's arms.

"See!" Q exclaimed as they watched Voyager's commanding officers
getting it on right there on the floor. "They're having fun, too!!"

"Put everything back, Q!" his mate threatened.

"Why?!"

"Because I said so! Return these puny, boring creatures to the
boring lives they're destined to lead, and then come home and teach your
son something redeeming!"

"Like knocking planets out of their orbit?" Q asked weakly.

"I don't care!! Just do it! And make sure they don't remember
anything about what happened," she finished, eyeing Q's lack of
clothing.

"Nothing?" Q asked with a smirk, turning back to look at the couple
sprawled on the floor playing a fierce game of tonsil hockey. Janeway
had rolled them over, taking the superior position as Chakotay ripped
her turtleneck and T-shirt off, leaving just her regulation brassiere in
place.

"Nothing!" the female Q insisted angrily.

"As you wish, my dear," smiled Q. With a snap of his fingers, both Q
disappeared in a dramatic flash of light.

Janeway felt Chakotay's lips beneath her, felt his warm hands
rubbing her body sensuously. She groaned into the kiss, sliding her
still fully clothed lower body back and forth against his hardness. She
was so unbelievably aroused it wasn't even funny. A draft rippled over
her bare shoulders, giving her gooseflesh and forcing her to lower
herself further into his warm embrace. His arms welcomed her, as they
had a hundred times before. She felt safe and secure in his strong hold,
moaning her encouragement to him. Her eyes were blissfully closed, her
entire being focused sharply on the pleasurable sensations building in
her groin. Something didn't feel right, though. Deep down, one of those
sneaking suspicions was creeping up on her at this most inopportune of
moments.

Off in the background, someone cleared their throat...

Janeway felt Chakotay go instantly soft as their lips stopped moving
together. In a rush of panicked adrenaline, the Captain of Voyager
opened her eyes and looked up...directly into the eyes of an astonished
Harry Kim, who stood on the top bridge level with his mouth wide open.
Tuvok stood beside the young Ensign, his eyebrows fully cocked and an
indescribable expression on his face. Janeway looked back down at
Chakotay, searching for some kind of an answer to the situation at hand,
but his dark eyes only held the same embarrassed shock and confusion
that her own surely did.

Down on the command level, Tom Paris poured himself a glass of
champagne. The commanding officers looked up again in time to see him
silently toasting them. After taking a large gulp, Paris refocused his
eyes on Voyager's first couple, laying in a most inappropriate position
right there on the floor. A wicked smirk formed on his face as he
blatantly studied them both. "Nice package, Captain," he exclaimed
appreciatively, finally breaking the silence. Janeway closed her eyes in
complete embarrassment.

*Shit...*

* * *

She groans and slaps her forehead. "Please, don't remind me of that."

I laugh out loud, and pull her towards me. "I'd like to see you try and explain that when we get home."

"I think there's going to be a lot of things we have to explain."

"Do you worry about that a lot?" I ask.

"Sometimes." She looks away. "Sometimes more than sometimes."

I hear it in her voice straight away. The uncertainty is creeping back. We're almost out of their space -- we've almost gone far enough that we can't feel guilty about not helping. For tonight, at least, I must keep talking.

"Kathryn, did I ever tell you about the time I heard--"

"--No!" She groans dramatically, knowing what I'm about to say. "No. No. Please, Chakotay, not that again. Anything but that!"